


Aftermath

by pieandangels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pieandangels/pseuds/pieandangels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set just after the ending of 8X21 "The Great Escapist"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

Blood. It's the first thing Dean thinks about when he sees Castiel huddled in the road, curled in on himself, eyes wide and staring at the Impala. He isn't sure how to reacts; it's been weeks since he's seen the angel. Instinct takes over the moment he realizes just how much blood there is, and he shoves the door open, stepping out and preparing to run to Cas.

"Cas?" He says, not understanding. 

"A little help here," Cas snaps, and Dean freezes. The tone in his voice is so familiar. Cas hasn't been Cas in a long time, and Dean would never admit it, but he feels empty without Cas around. And here he is, lying in the road, asking for help. Asking for Dean.

Sam starts forward, but Dean is quicker. He doesn't want to run, but somehow he can't help it. Sprinting to Castiel's side, Dean collapses and starts looking him over, trying to assess the damage. Christ, why is there so much blood?

 

"What happened?" Sam asks as when he catches up. He's moving more slowly, more uncertainly, but Dean tries not to think about it. He isn't capable of all the worrying he needs to do. 

"Crowley," Cas growls. Dean feels his stomach drop. He keeps a firm hand on Cas's arm.

"Son of a bitch. We'll deal with him later, alright? Let's get you somewhere safe," Dean says.

"That would be nice," Cas answers.

Sam makes a move to help Castiel up, but the angel leans heavily on the older Winchester. Dean thinks it's probably for the best; he doubts Sam has the energy to carry Cas. Together, they walk back to the Impala, lying Cas down in the backseat. Sam falls into the passenger seat while Dean walks to the other side of the car. Although he's glad to see Cas, he can't deny that it's more strain. He doesn't resent it though, not for a moment. This is Cas.  
It takes them several hours to get back to Kansas. Sam and Cas are both passed out when Dean pulls up in front of the bunker. He doesn't want to wake either of them, but he figures a good night's rest on a comfortable mattress is going to do more for them than a few extra minutes cramped in the car. He gently shakes Sam's shoulder.

"Hm?" Sam says, opening his bleary eyes and looking around. The whites of his eyes are stained red.

"We're home, Sammy," Dean says. Sam nods like a small child and gropes at the door for a moment before finding the door handle. He gets out of the Impala and shuffles toward the bunker entrance. Dean turns to look in the backseat. He's not sure why Cas is asleep - he thought angel's didn't sleep - but he knows from experience how exhausting torture is. 

"Cas," he calls softly, and the angel stirs. His blue eyes flicker for a moment, and Cas's lips turn up at the ends when he sees Dean.

"I fell asleep," he says, surprised. Dean lets out a strained laugh.

"You did. Come on, let's get Sammy to bed and clean you up." The two men exit the Impala and head toward the bunker. Once inside, Castiel looks around in wonder. He's walking slowly, as if something inside of him is ripping with every step. Dean doesn't understand. Why won't he heal himself?

Sam has fallen into a plush leather chair, and Dean supposes he can rest there for awhile. He'll wake up and find his way to bed eventually. He turns his attention to Castiel, leading him quietly down the hallway into the empty bedroom across from Dean's. The bed is made, the sheets clean; Dean always makes sure of that.

"Sit over there," Dean says, gesturing to the bed.

He walks into the bathroom runs some warm water over a wash cloth, then goes back to Castiel, sitting next to him on the bed and gently rubbing away the dried blood.

"Where've you been, man?" Dean asks.

Castiel is silent for a long minute. "Protecting you and Sam."

"How many times do I need to prove to you that we're better when we're together, Cas? In Purgatory - " Dean stops very suddenly, focusing intently on the washcloth in his hand. Cas looks at him, something making his blue eyes gleam.

"Dean, the idea of putting you in danger terrifies me. I was able to move faster on my own. I didn't want Naomi catching up with you."

Dean stops clearing the dried blood from Cas's forehead, looking at him directly. "You've got to stop running out on us. You see what Sam's like. I need you around. I can't take care of him alone. I don't know what's going on and I'm..." Dean trails off, looking away from Castiel, focusing on the blank, white wall. "I'm scared," he finishes quietly.

Suddenly Castiel's palm is cupping Dean's chin, pulling green eyes back up to pale blue. "I know now that I cannot leave you, Dean. You have done too much good for me not to trust you, and I am sorry. I can't tell you what's happening to Sam, but I may know where to look for some answers."

Dean's eyes widen and he feels an enormous pressure lift off his shoulders. He straightens his spine a little, and Castiel moves his hand to rest on Dean's cheek.

"Are you okay now?" Dean asks. Castiel drops his hand to his lap.

"Are you asking if I am still under Naomi's control, or if I am physically better?"

Dean hesitates. He doesn't really know. "Both, I guess."

"I am okay now, Dean. After the bond was broken between she and I, I was able to stay out of her control."

"Because of the Angel Tablet?" Dean asks. 

Cas smiles. "That is what Crowley thinks. Fortunately for us, he is wrong. Now that he has the Tablet, he'll expect me to fall under her control again."

"If it wasn't the tablet, what was it?" Dean resumes his task, clearing the last of the dirt and gore from Cas's jaw.

"I have a bond with the Tablet, but it was not strong enough to break the grip Naomi had on my mind. There is only one force stronger than manipulation of that magnitude."

"A particularly well-aimed sword?" Dean guesses. Cas chuckles. Dean reaches forward to touch a gentle finger against the thick, round bullet-hole. "You should let me clean that, too."

Castiel obliges, unbuttoning his dress shirt and leaning back so Dean has easier access to the torn, bloodstained skin stretching across Cas's abdomen.

"No. It had nothing to do with violence," Cas answers. "It was you, Dean. I tried to fight Naomi's control for a long time, but it wasn't until you told me to that I was able to overthrow it."

Dean doesn't meet Cas's gaze. He focuses instead on the angel's stomach, wiping at the wound methodically until Cas puts his hand over Dean's. Dean looks up.

"Thank you for not turning me away," Cas says. 

"'Course we're not going to turn you away," Dean says gruffly. They sit in silence while Dean finishes cleaning Cas's wounds, then the hunter stands. "I'm gonna get some shut-eye. I'll see you in the morning...won't I?"

"You will," Cas promises, and Dean nods.

He turns and leaves the room, heading back to his own and collapsing on the mattress. He's scared. Sammy's not right and Kevin's going to work himself into the ground. They've been through hell before, but not like this. They're not as young, not as fresh. They're tired, Dean's tired, and he's losing hope again. He stands up just long enough to strip down to his boxers, then climbs back under the covers.

In spite of everything, Dean finds he sleeps a little easier knowing his angel is in the next room, safe, alive, and in control of his own mind. Tomorrow they'll assess the damage. He'll wake up early to check on Sam and Cas will no doubt be waiting for him. They'll have coffee, and then there will be time to talk. For now, Dean is content to slip into something resembling sleep, carried away by images of pale blue eyes and dark, matted hair.


End file.
